The Immortals
by cihojuda
Summary: Many years ago, there were two children born with red eyes. Who are they, WHY ON EARTH ARE THEY STILL ALIVE, and what do they want with Drew and Doyle? -Multi-chapter oneshot, T for possible blood. Indefinite hiatus.-
1. Chapter 1

Long, long ago, the ancient Mayans prophesied that a child would be born with red eyes, and that this child would one day change the world. The priest died while relaying the prophesy, so it was never known when the child would be born, or weather they would change the world for the better...

Or the worse.

Centuries later, not one, but two children were born with red eyes. They were born to a minor nobleman out of a seven-year-long affair with a servant woman, who kept watch over the well in the castle courtyard to make sure that the water was clear.

The woman was terrified of her own children. From the first days of their lives, the world seemed thrown out of balance. Her daughter Delilah, pale and ivory-haired, would sit quietly in the corner of the house, doing nothing. Her son Dorian, six years the younger, had pure, deep red hair, matching his eyes and bloodthirsty nature. No other inhabitants of the castle would approach them, fearing they were demons. Their own father was afraid. He himself had a strong belief in magic. There were magic books that he had confiscated from the townspeople hidden in a secret place in his library.

Whenever either of the children drew water from the well, it came up black. Soon, all the water from the castle well had turned blacker than ink. Delilah, Dorian and their mother were sentenced to live out the rest of their lives in the well-keeper's shack.

Undeterred, the nobleman still came to be with the servant woman. Many a night Delilah and Dorian were forced to listen to their parents go at it as they sat with their backs turned on the other side of their one-room home. Though, once, the nobleman came drunk. He left the door unlocked behind him and took the woman to a clearing in the forest that surrounded the castle. A passing group of hunter mistakenly shot and killed them, thinking they were animals.

And what of the children?

Unknown to anyone, Delilah and Dorian had followed their parents into the forest and watched them die. This was the breaking point for their already fragile minds, sending them down a path from which there is no return. The path of vengeance.

Delilah devised a last-minute, desperate plan just before the sun rose and someone found them missing. She and her brother stole into the castle library and took one book. They supposedly died soon after, but their bodies were never recovered. Rumors still haunt the area about seeing Delilah and Dorian walking the streets, looking for souls to trade to the devil in return for their mother and father. People inexplicably disappear and the siblings are blamed.

Centuries after them, a new set of siblings almost identical to them was born with grey eyes:

_Drew Saturday and Doyle Blackwell._


	2. Chapter 2

Rain pelted down in sheets on the small, sleepy British tourist town. Not a thing was spared; no umbrella, poncho or raincoat could keep the few year-round inhabitants dry. They all hurried along, ignoring each other and the two red-haired young men that passed each other in the street. One went to the town bookshop. The other, with the collar of his trench coat turned up and wearing sunglasses to to hide his face, ducked down an alley.  
>"You're late," Drew scolded, pulling down her hood as Doyle scurried up to the shop window.<br>"Engine trouble," Doyle replied with a smirk. "Got the book?" She pulled one corner out from under her coat. "Good."  
>The door opened with a musical bell. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to stand out in the rain?" the elderly shopkeeper said, beckoning them inside. "Both of you, in, in! Hurry now." She stood aside and held the door as Drew and Doyle passed.<br>"Thank you," Drew said. She unzipped her coat and took out the book.  
>"Not a problem, dear." The shopkeeper waved dismissively, taking a seat behind the front desk. "You were going to have to come in sooner or later- there's a law against loitering. If you need anything, my name is Zephaniah." She picked up an old-fashioned ink pen and slid on a pair of half-moon glasses that hung on a chain around her neck.<br>"Actually, we came to talk to you." Drew went to the desk and set down the book. "We think one of our parents bought this here, and we were wondering if you could help us with something," she explained.  
>Zephaniah set the pen down. "I sold this to a man named Donovan Blackwell back in the fifties," she said incredulously, taking the book and flipping it open to a page marked with a ribbon. "Your father, you said?"<br>This time Doyle answered. "Yeah, he was, but that's not why we came. See, my sister here believes in magic and prophecies and stuff, and she thinks you might be able to tell us about them." Doyle reached over the desk and tapped the page on the right. "She thinks we might, you know, be them or something."  
>On the faded paper were two pictures from centuries before: a white-haired young girl in a black dress, staring soullessly at them, and a much younger redheaded boy who was viciously stabbing a rag doll with a dagger. There was a twisted smile on the boy's face, as if he was overcompensating for his sister's lack of emotion. Both had red eyes. Below the pictures was the story of the prophesy and the two red-eyed children. Someone- presumably Drew and Doyle's father- had scrawled something on the margin of the page in black ink, as if they were in a hurry.<br>_NOT AGAIN._  
>Zephaniah shook her head. "Oh, honey. I've had a few come in before worried about them, but you're the first to think they are them." She set the book back on the desk in front of her and leaned over it so she could speak quietly to Drew and Doyle. "But you best listen to your sister, young man. Prophecies have a strange way of coming true, especially around here." The book snapped shut with a loud thump and before either of them could register what had happened, Drew and Doyle were back out in the rain.<br>"Uh, sis? What just happened?"  
>"I truly don't know."<p>

Dorian stepped through the back door of the latest in a series of run-down hideouts, watching the security footage from a dozen different cameras turn his sister's face blue. "Delilah," he said to the back of her head, pulling off his sunglasses. Delilah spun from the monitor bay silently. He held out a picture from the bus stop on the outskirts of town; just minutes before: a blurry but still recognizable Doyle Blackwell.  
>"Sister, it is time. Our father walks the earth once more."<p> 


End file.
